Marzia just hitched her head down, ignoring the three hooligans. However, a tall man blocked her way and cut to her front. "Chill, lady. We just wanna have fun with you," he hooted out, smirking deviously.
"You dressed up nicely, sweetheart. But it would be even better if I take those off of you," the last man, who was quite large, whistled.
This time, Marzia couldn't keep quiet, and with that, she lifted her head and spat back, "Leave me alone! Assholes!"
The short man laughed, slapping his tall friend on his back. "This one is feisty!"
"You like it dirty. Don't you, bitch?" The bulky man among the three sneered, flashing his black-smeared teeth.
Marzia cringed inwardly when her gaze promptly met his randy leer. "Get out of my way!" She warned and pushed them away.
"Damn, this bitch wants to play hard to get!" The short man snatched her arms instantly, pulling Marzia forward. Then, his friend blocked the other side so she couldn't have a chance to get away from them.
"Don't ya worry, sweet cheeks, we'll make sure you'll have some fun!"
Taunting shivers in Marzia's nerves ignited as that uncouth voice reverberated her thoughts, filling her mind and body with oscillating fear. She gulped deliberately when her fingers automatically curled into her sweaty palms.
"I said let me go!" Marzia miffed back.
The bulky man came forward. Licking his lips, he said to his two guys, "Get our lady inside, and make sure she's all tied up."
The two nodded at him. On Marzia's right side, the short man uttered with excitement, "We'll bind you so tight, honey, so you would keep on coming back."
As soon as Marzia heard him, she tried to squirm out of his grasp. She wriggled her tied wrists and dragged her weight down so they would struggle to lift and slog her to their place.
"No! Get away from me! You assholes!" Marzia screamed in protest.
"Stop screaming. No one cares about you here," the tall man commented, walking along with the woman in their arms.
On the other hand, as Ian excavated throughout the entire avenue, he heard an alarming scream coming from the other side of the alley. He tracked the shrilling high-pitched voice along the corners of the sidewalks and sprinted across the block to where it came from.
"Marzia, is that you?!" He shouted, running to the dark alley of the street, and by the time he got there, he was astounded to see Marzia with three men hauling her like a sack of potatoes.
"Mmph!" Marzia's muffled scream sounded when she saw Ian. She didn't expect him to follow her all the way here.
In a snap, the man fumed with anger as he witnessed what they were about to do with her. Running toward them, he threatened, "You fucking muggers, let the lady go!"
"Aw, looks like your boyfriend is here to help you," the short man teased.
On the other hand, the tall man just said, "Too bad that he's already late."
In front of Marzia, the bulky man added, "Shut it, pretty boy! You're wasting your time. Just drag the bitch to the corner!"
Both of his friends obliged their leader and pushed her to the corner of the block. Marzia writhed her body, trying to unlash from them.
The bulky man waited for Ian to come closer to them as he matched the latter's glowering stare.
Unaware of what Marzia was about to do, the tall man felt the blow of the lady's heel on his shin, resulting in his excruciating whine. Consequently, the short man abruptly loosened his grip on Marzia when she kicked him in his balls.
As a result, her back was smashed into the cold, concrete ground when the two men dropped her. She threw the rag from her mouth, spit the awful and disgusting taste from it, and skewed her back, wincing from the massive blow of the cemented surface.
Ian was about to help Marzia when he paused to realize that the woman didn't need his help. While watching her tearing the two hooligans apart, he found himself inwardly fascinated in wonder how a small, petite woman like her could handle those guys.
"Marzia, run!" Ian shouted in worry, reminding her of the best course of action.
Along with her shallow breaths, Marzia didn't think twice about getting up and running away from them as the hefty man hastily pulled the tail of her hair with intense force. The agonizing scream she made tore Ian's ticker apart.
But the bad guys were too fast. "Oh no, woman, you won't get away from us just like that!" The large man warned her as he thrust her back into his chest. "I'll make sure you'll obey me—"
"Let me go, you bastard!" Marzia didn't let her fear show. She stomped her heels to his feet and tried to dash away from him.
However, the man dodged her stomp quickly. "Honey, you'll have to do more than that." He called to his two men, who are both struggling to get up and ordered, "You wimps, get your ass up!"
Ian noticed it right away. The situation between them took a dark turn when the two men came to help their friend again and grabbed Marzia on her feet, carrying her inside the reclusive corner of the alley.
Because of that, Ian rushed to get to them before they could do something. Without hesitation, he punched the stout man in the face and hit him on the side of his limbs. His opponent was able to recover from his punch. Cracking his neck, the bulky man hit Ian's face in return.
Ian felt the massive blow as it made his vision hazy. But he manned up and shook his head sideways, waking himself to jab the man against his cheeks. To his dismay, the large man dodged it rapidly, turning his shoulders away from Ian.
"Ya think you can kill me with a puny cock of yours, shithead?" The man jeered at him with his arrogant gait. Indeed, since Ian grew up protected by his family's wealth, he wasn't the best at combat. In fact, he was quite bad at it.
Nonetheless, Ian didn't let the insults flinch his confidence down. The enemy was rather taller than him. He knew he couldn't beat the shit out of them if he attacked the front. Bearing that in mind, he probed into the opening sides of the man, looking for the latter's blindside.
Ian then moved to the left side of the open street as he waited for the right time for the man to bout him. And as he had just surmised, his opponent rushed to him, raising his arm to punch him on the right.
On impulse, he sloped his shoulders back, yanked his forearm, and snapped it with a twist. When Ian got the bad guy in his grasp, he kicked the back of the latter's knees, letting the douche kneel to the ground with a grunt.
With a hunger to knock this man down, Ian hit the man's head on the nearest light post and threw him into the street. The tall man wasn't about to attack him back as he plummeted on the asphalt cement and blacked out into oblivion. The two men realized what Ian had done, which made them react quickly to help their friend. "Son of a bitch!" The tall man hissed.
Requiting for their friend, the tall man tried to blow Ian on his jaw, but he failed to do so when Ian, in reflex, counter-attacked him with an uppercut.
"Fuck, stop!" The short man then ran forward, trying to smack Ian's back with a piece of wood he found lying nearby. Ian promptly noticed the man's weapon; however, instead of dodging it, he caught its bark, gripping it tight to halt the man from hitting him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned, enduring the blistering pain on his palm.
Nevertheless, the short man didn't recoil from Ian's warning and extricated away the wood from him. He then proceeded to hit him on his ribs, which Ian didn't calculate right away.
"Fuck you phony superman!" The short man hitched.
Ian instantly felt his ribs being forcibly pushed inside his gut. He balled inwardly, crunching the pain of the blow and grunting to bear the throbbing sensation. Biting the inside of his cheek, Ian stood straight in a wobble, and then, while the short man was quite having a minor victory with himself, Ian punched him in the face, driving him away to lose his balance. He didn't stop there as he followed through to pull him up, eventually blasting the stocky dud against the graffiti wall.
The short man met his own demise in a flash as his body fell down on the ground, together with his other two hooligan friends. As his head dropped, the blood on his nose streamed down onto his philtrum.
Taking advantage of the situation, Ian didn't waste his time waiting for the group to rise. He ran to Marzia and helped the lady stand. He enveloped his arms to her back for support while Marzia reclined her shoulders on him. "You okay?" Ian's eyebrow furrowed as he asked. The wrinkles and lines on his forehead were so clear that Marzia struggled to stop her chest from thudding erratically. She didn't reply to him as her gaze met the bruises on his face. There was a large swollen patch on the corner of his mouth. Narrowing her eyes and looking at him closely, Marzia suggested. "We've got to get you to the hospital, Ian. Your lips are inflamed and your ribs might have a fracture."
The man wiped the blood from the corner of his lips like he felt nothing. Ignoring it as though it was nothing, Ian refused, "Nah, I'm fine. Don't sweat about this. How about you?"
Ignoring his feigned coolness, Marzia replied adamantly, "No, you're hurt. We should go. There's a hospital three blocks away from here."
"Marzia, there's really no need," Ian countered, but his voice shook a little when he felt a glint of chest pain. Thankfully, Marzia wouldn't take no for an answer. "No. I'm taking you to the hospital." She snuck her dainty arms on his back for support and continued, "Where's your car?"
Resigning with a sigh, he pointed two blocks away from their location. Marzia helped him walk as they headed to where his car was parked. After a couple of minutes, she unlatched her arms from his back and then held her palms in front of Ian.
"Where are the keys?" she asked him casually. Ian didn't contest with her. He took out the keys from his pockets and gave them to her. "Thanks." Then, Marzia opened the door of his car and supported him in getting in.